The Comic Tragedy
by ObsessedRomantic
Summary: Fourth in the Townwood Lane AU, sequel to 'The Girl & The Friend'. Last weekend before school starts. Mexico or Comicon? A decision with further reaching consequences than the group expects. RT, SS, LM
1. One

**The Comic Tragedy**

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own it? Phooey. Well, not making any money or anything. Just doing this for fun and feedback.

**Summary: **The last weekend before school starts. Mexico or Comicon? Those decisions and more await Ryan and Taylor in this next installment of Townwood Lane AU. RT, SS, LM.

- xxx –

Music started off to his left somewhere, but Ryan didn't open his eyes. He knew, if he didn't get up when the alarm went off; one of the Cohen's would be in the door in about fifteen minutes (less if it was Seth) with a cup of coffee and a worried expression. It had taken a little getting used to, their concern for his well-being, but now he counted it as one of the constants of his new life. Another was his new habit of thinking about things, going over and over them in his head even after the events had passed. Must be a side effect of hanging around Seth so much, he mused.

His job was going well, really well. He'd thought that, after the summer, the number of cars needing washed would drop. And it had, but there were other things Steve and Mr. Ward were letting him do. He grinned, remembering how Steve had charged after him as he was leaving on Tuesday and asked him, rather desperately, if he knew how to do an oil change. Apparently, there were only three mechanics on duty at a time, and they were busy fixing some guy's trans (that always got stripped when his auto-only driving wife borrowed the car) and this Newpsie needed her oil changed **now**, as in **right** now. Steve had thrown him a coverall, profuse in his thanks, muttering about 'queen bitches'. He hadn't gotten the problem until he saw **who** was at the garage door and ducked behind some equipment.

It had taken all his self-control not to laugh, to hold it in until she left the lot; and he probably would've been okay if his boss hadn't come in with a **tip** for him from the woman in question. That had torn it, and there had been true concern on the guy's face at his near hysterical laughter; but he hadn't been able to help it. Finally, he'd manage to choke out that the imperious woman who'd just left was his girlfriend's mother; Veronica Townsend. The entire place was in stitches by the time he'd managed to leave, and he'd caught more than one look of sympathetic awe.

It was a joke that had played just as well at home, that night, during dinner. A dinner with a capital 'd', being one where Cal dropped by; therefore enabling Taylor to attend. Veronica had decreed that the Cohen's house was only acceptable if they were having a party, or the whole family was there. Seth was always enthused to have Summer over, and he fought the temptation every morning to ask Kirsten for an excuse to throw another bash. It wasn't like he didn't get to see his girl, she hung out with Summer most of the time; and he met the girls and Seth for lunch every day. He just missed her, missed the circumstances that would let him kiss her, really. Which wasn't too bright of him, actually, but it was becoming an issue, their first kiss.

Even that dinner hadn't given him the opportunity, the moment just hadn't been **right**, somehow. Maybe it was that everyone had been too busy laughing, especially after he'd declared that he was going to use the tip money to take Taylor out (on a **double** date, those were the rules, after all) 'someplace nice'. Kirsten had choked on her wine and Sandy had toasted his 'chutzpa'; whatever the hell that was. His girl had giggled her way through the rest of dinner, and had lamented the fact that rubbing her mother's nose in it would get him fired. Cal had announced **he'd** hire Ryan, if only to piss the woman off, which had endeared the older man to the entire table. He'd seen Kirsten give her old man his house key back as the guy had left to drop off the girls.

The door latch clicked, opening; only five of six minutes after his alarm had gone off. That told him it was his adopted mother: Sandy was usually off surfing this early and Seth never got up unless something had happened with 'Operation Summer'. Opening his eyes slowly, brow furrowing as he detected the lack of a coffee smell he suddenly tensed, lifting himself up onto his elbows to stare fixedly at the figure by the door. Which wasn't Kirsten.

It was Taylor.

How she'd gotten here, why she'd come; none of that really mattered, because she was wearing a white cotton dress that looked like someone stretched a handkerchief to it's absolute limits and she had a look on her face that spoke of nothing but hunger. Her body glowed tan through the sheer fabric, hair mussed like she'd just woken up, lips moist. He gasped as she bit the bottom one, locking the door firmly behind her before starting towards him. Her bare feet made no noise as she flowed sultrily across the carpet to the end of his mattress.

And then started to crawl up it.

Her hazel eyes were locked, burning, on his; she licked her lips as she moved with animal grace up his body, setting his nerves on fire as she dragged her hips and breasts along his torso. He nearly groaned as she levered herself up on her left hand, stroking his chest with her right as she slid it across his body to grip his left shoulder, shaking it gently.

''Ryan! Wake up, Ryan!''

Blinking, his auburn-haired temptress melted away. Into his adopted mother.

He shoved himself to the right, out of her grip. No **way** did he want her touching him, right then. A quick mental check of his state confirmed that he didn't want anyone (well, maybe **one** person) touching him, just now. Ryan pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and dropping his forehead on top. God hated him, that was it. Jesus and Moses, too, probably.

''Ryan?'' A peek out of the corner of his eye showed a worried looking Kirsten. Great, now she thought she'd sparked a bad memory or something. She switched off the radio-alarm, sitting on the edge of his bed. ''Are you okay?'' Tentatively, she reached out, pulling the hand back when he tensed. Hurt flickered across her face and he felt the guilt start. Which did nothing, unfortunately, to ……**decrease** his current problem.

''Gimme a minute.'' He rasped, still trying to shake the images that had moved through his dreams. He didn't know the name of the song that had been playing when he'd woken up (or thought he'd woken up) but he knew he'd never be able to hear it again without seeing _**her**_, crawling her way ……Shit, he needed to get a han…..get **control** of himself. So Kirsten would leave and he could deal with it or, more likely, take one **hell** of a cold shower. ''Weird dream.'' That was as far as he was going to explain, damn it. If it was Sandy, he could give a look and the man would get the idea. But he was **not** going to give that look to his **mother,** for crying out loud.

''Okay, then.'' She sounded amused, had she guessed? Had he said something as he was waking up? Or had she, oh fuck; had she s**een**? He didn't **dare** look to see if there was a bulge in the blankets, not brave enough to even lift his head as she got up. ''Try not to give yourself pneumonia, okay?'' There was a distinct click as the latch closed after her. You can't kill her, he told himself; you have to kill your**self**, first. Before the humiliation does. Besides, she'd brought him coffee; which would be warming after his morning ice bath.

Ryan headed for the bathroom, hoping that the water would be cold **enough**. Sometimes, he had to take a longer shower, and he really didn't need to run into Seth's knowing smirks or Sandy's teasing remarks this morning. This morning, he just wanted to get through the day; so it would be the weekend, so he could go on the date and at least **kiss** the girl. Which would only fuel more dreams, leading to more cold showers (or long ones); but he couldn't help it, he wanted her in his arms, pressed against……Damn it. HE slammed the bathroom door and tried to shove any thoughts of _**her**_ away. He stripped, running the water to just short of freezing and wishing he had some company. Specific company. Fuck, he was thinking of Taylor again. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles as the shower picked at him icily. No one else could be having as lousy a morning, he decided.

''This isn't Newport, it's hell.''


	2. Two

''Okay, Coop, Whatev.''

Taylor heard her friend hang up the phone and sighed. They'd been trying all week to 'make up' with the other girl, to recapture the closeness from the spa trip. Well, Summer had been trying harder than she had, really. Her recent deliberations had lead her to realize she wanted as little as possible to do with Marissa Cooper. She was even considered quitting social committee, just to get away from her. She'd been suspicious since Cotillion, but Caleb Nichol's birthday party had, if not proven, then made more likely, certain suspicions.

The other two girls had been acting weird: the brunette being all protective and trying to keep her and the blonde (who'd been outright hostile) apart. She didn't think it was entirely due to Marissa's attempts to quit drinking or her friend's pre-occupation with Seth, either. There was no **way** the other girl would give up on her best friend of so many years without a good reason.

Like the Cooper girl being the one who'd given her mother the wrong idea about her and Ryan.

She'd thought about it and thought about it and realized that **that** scenario was the only one that would make Summer 'dump' the other girl as a friend. Just like Caleb must've done or said something to Veronica, to make the woman behave so …….okay, she wasn't being **nice**, but she wasn't verbally picking her daughter apart anymore, either. She was just……..quiet, a lot. Like that idiom about not saying anything, if one didn't have anything nice to say. Not that her mother hadn't found **other** ways to be mean. She'd laid out some pretty stringent 'rules' for the deal (taping them to the fridge so that Taylor had to see them every **single **morning), taken up the habit of leaving diet books all over the house; and was now home (to glower at her daughter and whomever dropped her off) every night at ten. Which was Taylor's new curfew (even on weekends), much to the shocked dismay of her boyfriend and his family.

At first, she'd been humiliated that the Cohen's (and Summer) knew about 'the deal' she and Ryan had made with her mother. After the dreams she'd started having, though, she knew they could use all the help they could get. Whether it was someone to make sure she was never late getting home, or the suggestion of the very public lunches; there was always someone assisting them. They treated it like it was no problem at all and only made the occasional comment about what a bitch her mother was being. She knew what her mother was, but still felt uneasy every time someone brought it up. After all, what was she supposed to do about it? You can't choose your family, she told herself. Pity; because as weird as it would make things with Ryan, she would choose the Cohen's in a heartbeat. Or maybe Summer wanted a sister?

''Hanging out with Luke again?'' She asked her friend, looking up from painting her toenails. That was the plan for this morning; lay around and do their nails until it was time to meet the boys for lunch. The afternoon promised to be more fun; involving some mysterious plan for the weekend that Summer had said was 'awesome'. She had the skin-tingling feeling that the plan involved Ryan, somehow, and tried not to spoil the surprise by guessing too often. She also tried not to watch the clock **too **avidly, but wasn't having as much success, there. She rested her back against the vanity, shifting her seat on the carpet. The brunette stretched in her position across the floor, leaning back against the bed.

''Yeah.'' Summer answered, frowning at her own toenails, now a sparkling red instead of the former pink. Taylor hoped her friend wasn't about to change her mind about the color **again**. They were on their third choice already; they didn't have time to wait for a fourth to dry. ''He's being real attentive; all they do is hang out, lately.''

''At least **some**one's getting some.'' She muttered. Aloud, she realized, as the girl squealed and hit her softly with a pillow from off the bed.

''Ew! Taylor!'' Summer giggled, fending off the retaliatory chair pillow. The two teenagers only traded a few more blows (careful not to get too close to the drying nails on their feet) before tossing the pillows back to their original positions. It was too hot for such activities. It was too hot for anything, really; but lunch with the boys was one of the only times she got to see _**him**_, so no way was she going to miss it. ''I can't believe you **said** that.'' Her friend panted, now laying flat on the floor with her feet propped on the bed.

''Neither can I.'' Taylor flushed, laying flat on the carpet next to her friend, lifting her feet to join the other's on the bed. She had been doing that all week; saying things without thinking about them first. It was very unlike her and she couldn't help but suspect they were a side effect of the dreams. Not that she'd told anyone about **those**, nor was she ever going to. Partly because they were so disturbingly heated (soulful looks, warm hands, and lots of kissing were the usual fare) but also because thinking about them often brought on a waking version, which was really embarrassing. ''How are things with Seth?'' She actually wanted to know, but she also wanted to think about something other than _**him**_, because it made her light-headed.

''Good, I guess.'' Summer fiddled with her hair, staring at the ceiling. ''I mean, sometimes he's just so….Seth Cohen. And then, he does or says something and I want to kiss him again. You know?''

''Not really.'' She couldn't keep the disappointed bitterness out of her voice and sighed heavily. Quit being so pathetic, she told herself. Focus on your friend, she needs you. ''I mean, **yes**, I understand. You're confused.''

''True.'' Her friend fidgeted with her bikini, adjusting the straps even though Taylor knew she was comfortable. Sometimes she thought the girl complained so that things wouldn't be so frighteningly perfect. She wished she had **that** problem. ''I mean, he's nice and all, and there are definite sparks; but…….''

''You're not sure if you can handle what will happen at school, when all your friends get a look at your guy.'' The quality of the other's silence confirmed her theory and she was silent, gathering her thoughts. She was relieved as well as terrified, herself, by the thought of school. On the one hand, she was looking forward to the extra distraction from 'the deal' and on the other, she was petrified that Ryan would find someone more attractive (not hard, in this neighborhood), someone he had more in common with, someone who didn't have an emotional terrorist for a mother. And what if he didn't get in? Could she stand** not** seeing him every day? But this was about Seth and Summer, her two best (and only) friends. She wasn't about to let anything come between them, not even themselves. ''You're a strong person, Summer; you can stand up to those preppy little savages.'' She ignored the fact that she had been one of them, last year. ''You're a leader, someone who** sets** the standard. They should be worried about** your** opinion, not the other way around.''

''I just wish I could figure out why he likes me.'' There was a desperate fear under her friend's complaint, a fear she recognized. Was this **normal**? To be afraid of people taking off and leaving you all alone? She hadn't thought so, but it looked like the concern was more common than she'd believed. ''I mean, what happens when he gets bored and leaves me?'' She couldn't help it, she burst out laughing; kicking her feet a little. Ryan was more likely to take up ballet, she thought somewhat hysterically.

''Oh, Summer, he's not going to **get** bored.'' Taylor sat up, pulling her feet off the bed, and leaning on one hand to smile down at her friend. She briefly considered telling the girl that Seth was in love with her, but decided he needed to reveal that himself, to be truly convincing. ''You're smart and funny and all he wants is to find out more about you so he can make you happy.'' She shrugged, checking her 'autumn mist' toenails. Dry, finally. Now they could get dressed and go to lunch. ''You want to hear any more, ask Seth. I'm sure he'll be glad to go on all day about how wonderful you are.'' Grinning at the other girl, she pulled the cotton balls from between her toes, tossing them towards the trash. ''Lord knows the rest of us have heard it all before. Many, many, **many** times.''

''He's such a dork.'' There was a note of possessive affection in the brunette's voice and she smiled wider to hear it. They got ready, Taylor mildly uneasy in the cutoffs her friend had leant her. She'd refused outright to wear the bikini top, sticking with a nice yellow tee shirt. She'd never shown so much skin (even though her shorts were three inches longer than the other girl's) and wanted to have at least **some **familiar coverage.

Meeting at the diner was a tense situation (Ryan wasn't there yet) and Seth's 'you look fine' hadn't done **anything **to settle her nerves about her outfit. It was all part of Summer's plan to get _**him**_ to kiss her, but she still felt like she was playing with fire, here. Really, it would happen when it was right, when they were ready. Of course, that theory had led to three very frustrating encounters, only **one** of which was her mother's fault. Then again, if they kissed, it would make the deal **so** much harder to keep. Taylor kept turning from one side of the argument to the other, twisting herself into knots over something she felt should be simple, easy. Her friend's chatter faded to a pleasant background buzz as she spotted the familiar figure on his bicycle. She went over to him, ignoring Summer's whispered 'good luck' as her focus narrowed in on _**him**_.

''Hey.'' Ryan secured his bike, giving her appreciative looks out of the corner of his eyes. He licked his lips, shoving his hands resolutely into his pockets as he turned to face her. There was a flick of disappointment, seeing how determined he was to control himself, to avoid temptation. A kiss wouldn't be **that** bad, would it? Simple, easy; she thought. A wild daring overtook her and she stepped closer to him, resolutely not thinking about whomever might be watching: or about anything else, for that matter.

''Hey.'' She cupped his face in her hands, seeing his eyes go wide with shock (and eager excitement) as she set her lips against his.

Fire: running through her veins and over her skin; igniting patterns behind her eyes. His arms were around her, pressing her body against his with a moan and making the fire pulse harder, hotter. Her body ached and throbbed, the tips of his fingers lodged under the waist of her cutoffs; the rest of that hand trembled in the small of her back. His other hand cupped her head and she gasped, sliding her hands into his hair and opening her mouth to his tongue. Jolts of electricity crackled **every**where. She was drowning in the carnal thrill of kissing _**him**_, flying through the cosmos on the fiery sensations flaring between them. A mutual need for oxygen broke the kiss, leaving her gasping against his cheek, praying his lips would continue to travel along her skin and just as fervently hoping they **wouldn't**, suddenly once more aware of the fact that they were in** public**. Oh God. She didn't have the courage to open her eyes.

Ryan rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily; putting his shaking hands on her shoulders. A tentative peek showed her friends standing where she'd left them, money changing hands (she'd kill Summer later) and supportive, approving looks on their faces. Not so the rest of the crowd; who were smirking and whispering behind their hands. It was the one girl with her cell phone out that chilled her to the bone, making her step backwards, hands awkward as they drifted over his chest to twist uneasily together in front of her waist. He dropped his hands from her, letting her go.

''That's why I didn't try before.'' His blue eyes were burning, his lips were moist and slightly pink and his hair was mussed a bit. **I** did that, she thought, dropping her hazel gaze. Unfortunately, she happened to look right** at** further evidence of why this had been a** very** bad idea. Swallowing, remembering how it had felt to be pressed against him (and wanting to feel it again, like, **now**) she turned away, crossing her arms over her chest to keep her fingers out of his silken hair.

''I'm sorry.'' Taylor whispered, feeling stupid and mean. No **wonder** he went for the deal, that he hadn't taken the chance of giving her a good night kiss this past week. God, now it was even **harder** not to look at him, to keep from touching him. And what was** he** going through? Thanks to her, his ride back to work was sure to be pretty uncomfortable.

''Tay.'' His tone was tender, even amused and she felt a little angry. How **dare** he be so controlled and calm? She whirled, scowling……..and his hands cupped her face, his mouth once more devouring hers. She whimpered, wrapping her arms around his waist. Stupid or not, witnesses or not; she wasn't going to resist **this**. Let them tell her mother about it, she really didn't care, right now. Ryan Atwood was kissing her like his life depended on it. **Her**, Taylor Townsend, one girl freak show. It was just as overwhelming as before, this kiss; and they broke apart again, once more gasping desperately for breath. ''Don't be sorry.'' He mumbled, tapping her nose with one finger. ''Be strong.''

''Easy for you to say.'' She groused, taking a huge step away from him, feeling the tingle along her body that wanted to grab him and kiss him some more; crowd of gossips or not. Maybe she should sit on the other side of the table, or at a table on the other side of the diner. Somehow, she felt that a seat on the other side of the **planet** wouldn't be far enough away to control her newly-awakened urges.

''Says you.'' He returned, tone aggrieved and sarcastic. She looked over, watched him shift his feet as he adjusted his jeans by a grip on the belt. From the expression on his face, it wasn't helpful; he still looked pained and somewhat breathless. He scowled over at his brother and she followed his gaze, seeing Seth stick his hands behind his back, mid-gesture. The smug look on Summer's face caused her eyes to narrow balefully. When she spoke, her voice was tight with resentment at the much easier path those two would have, comparatively.

''I say we arrange a little 'boating accident'.''


	3. Three

-- xxx --

''They look pissed.'' Seth observed, just as Ryan burst out laughing.

''Oh yeah, he's en**rag**ed.'' Summer smiled smugly at their two approaching friends, feeling confident from her victory in the 'kissing pool'. Kirsten hadn't wanted to participate, but Sandy was gonna be bummed he'd lost, and Caleb would want a play by play. Old man was just as eager a gossip as she was, and it was worth the teasing he gave her about his grandson (well, one of his grandsons) for a Fashion Island shopping spree. Those two couldn't've held out that much longer, anyway. The heated looks they'd been shooting each other all week should've been classed as a fire hazard. Seriously. Not to mention, watching them make out was **hot**. In a non-creepy. happy for her friends way; of course.

Besides, now she felt less guilty about the kisses she'd been stealing from Seth every chance she got.

''Summer.'' Ryan greeted her, blue eyes knowing and amused. He doesn't seem to mind too much, she thought. Tay however…

''You're buying lunch.'' The other girl huffed, brushing past her into the diner. She knew her friend wasn't really mad, just …….well, with Tay, who knew? She wasn't mad, though. Now that she thought of it, she couldn't remember ever **seeing** her mad, ever. She tucked the factoid away in her 'things I like about Taylor' file and headed after her.

''Order something expensive.'' Seth suggested to his brother as both boys paused to let her proceed them into the restaurant.

Tay was already seated, menu help up to shield her from their audience. And they did have one, Summer noticed. Small pockets of silence and whispers followed them across the room as they joined their friend. She was just sliding in next to her when some jock-brain called out to Ryan.

''Hey, Chino, what's your rate?'' Giggling from the girls at his table and knowing smirks accompanied the question from ……..she thought his name might be Brad? Her new friend shifted in her seat, hands trembling a little.

''Afraid you'll have to lower your prices?'' Atwood responded coolly, neck a little red, but face utterly composed. He could've given stone lessons to a statue, she thought. Seth slid hurriedly into the booth, obviously hoping the confrontation could be stalled if they were sitting down. His brother joined him, clenching and unclenching his fists as the whispers got louder. He stopped when Tay reached across the table to lay one of her hands over his, laying her menu down; but the words were starting to get audible. God, didn't this place have anyone waiting tables? The appearance of an adult would quiet those bozos long enough for the thought of tormenting the four of **them** to leave their tiny brains. Five seconds, tops.

''Queer.''

''Buncha faggots.''

''I bet Townsend's really a guy.'' Seth gasped and she felt a thrill of fear, herself. The way the blue eyes across from her had flashed, the way his jaw was clenching……. One more word, she thought; and it's gonna get bloody. She could hear the blonde boy breathing, his lips were moving in a silent chant. Something about sand? She was too tense to concentrate properly on reading his lips.

''You didn't seem to think so the night of Holly's barbeque, Doug.'' Snide tones from her right reminded her that this wasn't exactly a shrinking violet. This was** Taylor** **Townsend**, the girl who'd nearly snatched social chair from Marissa on the strength of her personality **alone**. Okay, so there'd been massive terror on the part of the student body as well. Summer suddenly wondered how many people had voted for Coop thinking she'd protect them from Tay? ''You know, when you were trying to pull me from my car?''

''Oh shit.'' Seth muttered, ducking down into his seat and hiding behind his menu. His brother had turned to glare at the guy, who sunk back into his seat, swallowing hard and paling at the death stare he was being given. A light, condescending voice cut across the tension it had created.

''It's a little odd, don't you think, Summer?'' She shot her head around to the other girl, wondering if there was such a thing as possession by the living. The tone was just biting enough to be recognizable as her mother's; and the girl was flipping through her menu with a bored expression. The other hand remained firmly over Ryan's, she could see the pressure being used to keep him seated in the flexing of the other girl's knuckles. Aside from that, you'd think she was commenting on the weather. In another country. ''I mean, he seems **very** interested in homosexuality. There's not even any girls at his table.'' Every eye in the place was drawn to Doug's seat, where he started to flush. Because it was true, there were only macho jocks sitting with him. Oh, it was too rich. She had to play, too.

''It's **very** odd, Tay.'' Summer wasn't about to be left out of **this** fun. She tried to go for more of a Mrs. Coop tone, though. She really didn't think she could pull off the cold-blooded disinterest her friend was managing to convey. ''I mean, if Atwood was a homo gigolo; wouldn't his tongue have been in **Seth**'s mouth?''

''And now I'm not hungry.'' Her …..boyfriend? kissing buddy?... declared, dropping his menu to the table. ''That is so gross on so many levels I can't even begin to tell you how nauseous it makes me.''

''Nasty.'' The other boy agreed, scooting a little away from his friend as he turned back to face them. His hand relaxed on the table as the crowd (wisely, Summer thought) decided to pursue other, safer interests. Like, sky diving with a bungee cord, or something. She nudged Tay in congratulations and saw a smile flick at the corner of her mouth, hazel eyes still locked on the menu.

The waitress came over to take their order, and she felt that the situation completely fit one of her Dad's sayings. 'Day late and dollar short' **indeed**. This woman had better give some **amazing** service to get a good tip, she thought to herself. They placed their usual order, the boy's stated unease apparently not effecting their appetites one bit. Tension fled from the group as their relaxed chatter (most of it from Seth) fell into the pattern they'd been living in for the past week.

Seth would go on and on about something no one else (well, maybe Tay) was interested in. One or the other of the girls would eventually jump in with a topic change, leaving Ryan to make short little comments and soft spoken one-liners. She'd been surprised to hear him crack wise on occasion, she hadn't thought he **had** a sense of humor. When she'd confessed as much to her friend, she'd been regaled with the story of what he'd been saying at Caleb's party. 'Drop a house on your aunt': that was **funny**. Someone should drop a house on her **mother**, Summer thought, seeing the two lock eyes and then look away, biting their lips. High school was hard enough without having to strangle one's natural urges. She should know; her Dad was a doctor.

''So what's this brilliant plan?'' Tay asked as the meal was winding down. The boys were building something out of sugar packets, but they abandoned the effort to focus on her.

''Well, you know how everyone goes to TJ the last weekend before school?'' Seth nodded, but his brother was frowning. She went on with her plan before her friends could voice their objections. ''I thought we could do something different. Comic con is that weekend, right?'' He'd Tivo'd The Valley for her, she could do this for him. And Tay would be there to make it bearable if he got** too** Seth Cohen on her.

''Comic con is basically a bunch of pathetic virgins ogling …….well, **you.**'' So much for the guy appreciating her trying to share his interests. Sometimes he was such a ……..boy.

''So, not that different from here, then.'' She snapped at him, crossing her arms over her chest. Really, couldn't he see she was trying? He was supposed to be the smart one, after all. ''What do you think, Tay? You could show me around while the boys do their geek thing.'' 'While we ignore them completely', her tone said.

''I hear they're thinking of doing a comic book for The Valley.'' Seth told them, looking at her with puppy eyes. Damn it. He probably didn't even know what he'd done wrong; and he was scrambling to make it up to her. A comic book of The Valley? That was so……..okay, that would give them common ground to build on. Great, now she wanted to kiss him, again. Obviously she wasn't the only one trying, if he'd bothered to find that out.

''It sounds terrif, Summer, but there's a problem.'' Taylor was saying. Uh-oh. She had that crushed look on her face; the look she got whenever her mother (or that stupid deal) came up. ''I can't go.''

''I know your mom has you on lock down, Tay; but this is a lot of people. Geeks, true; but still people. We'll be very public, trust me.'' Summer just wanted to get her friend out of this place. She'd been so different at the retreat; a confident and fun-loving person. She wanted that side of the girl back, and that meant getting her away from her mother and out of the poisonous Newpsie (Mr. Cohen was riot, sometimes) atmosphere.

''It's a hotel.'' Ryan informed her, though his blue eyes remained concernedly fixed to her right. ''Veronica…..'' Wow, she'd never heard anyone's name said with such outright disgust, before ''……won't let Tay go if I do.'' He shook his head at his seat mate's sputtering protests. ''I'm not gonna let her keep you from having fun. I could use the time to myself, anyway.'' He quirked a half-smile, getting a somewhat shaky one out of his girlfriend for his next words. ''It'll give me a chance to get control of myself.''

''Dude, we won't be gone **that** long.'' Seth received the thump on the arm he deserved. She didn't think he'd been hit hard enough for his reaction, either, the big sissy. He was just playing it up for sympathy. Or maybe to distract from the situation their friends were in. ''I'm sure the 'rents will be ecstatic at having you brooding around the house all weekend.''

''You could study some more.'' Her friend suggested. Wait, study? Why would Atwood need to study? Thankfully, the other girl was continuing. ''Principal Kim is sure to have some sort of test before she lets you into Harbor. Even if she doesn't, there's still the summer reading to finish.''

''Yeah.'' The blonde boy glared to his left, rising as she set out the money for the check. There went her profit from the bet with her …..?..….boyfriend, she supposed. He would have to do some serious romance before she called him that aloud, though. Certain standards must be maintained, after all; and settling who was in charge was the most vital point of all. ''Thanks for telling me about that.''

''What? Who does the summer reading, anyway?'' She sighed as the guys started to argue. She knew his dad was a lawyer, but did he really have to argue with **everyone**? Maybe it was a good it would only be the three of them this weekend; one less person for him to irritate. The group headed out the door, brought up short by the chirping of Tay's phone. Summer felt a chill crawl up her spine as the girl answered it.

''Hey, mom.'' The other actually flinched, although the voice on the other side wasn't audible to anyone else. She didn't want to think about what was being said to put that pale, nauseated look on her friend's face. Hazel eyes went wide with fear, and she started shaking her head. ''…..no, we didn't…..but we didn't……..it's not a violation……'' Her hand was starting to shake, which was probably why Ryan was able to snatch the cell from her so easily. Everyone stared in apprehension as he started talking.

''Hello Miss Townsend.'' There was a chill to his voice, a disconnected reserved that made her very, **very** glad she hadn't been successful in catching his interest after the fashion show. Sometimes he was pretty scary; although Seth, for some reason, looked delighted. ''No, it's not a violation……….no, you said no sex and always in public………well, that's too bad……….'' His face tightened, his eyes burning as he stared into the distance, listening. It didn't look like it was going well.

''Grandpa.'' Seth whispered, confusing her. His brother looked relieved, though, nodding his thanks.

''……and maybe I'll just tell my **Grandfather** that you're attempting ……..Yeah, that's what I thought……..no, that's not part of the deal, either………'' He closed the phone, holding it out to his girlfriend. When she took it from him, letting her fingers linger over his, he blew out a frustrated breath, smiling at the release of tension. ''I think you're adopted.''

''It would explain a lot.'' Tay agreed, storing her phone in her purse. ''We can't use the threat of Mr. Nichol too often, you know.'' Summer smiled, glad they had the old man in their corner. Although, her friend had a point: they couldn't use the proverbial 'panic button' too often. It wouldn't be as forceful a deterrent if they were constantly relying on the old man, cool as he was.

''Hey, a little fear of Grandpa is good for you.'' Seth protested. ''Although, dude; may I say 'bravo' for the impersonation? Even mom doesn't do him that well.'' The other boy was silent, glancing at his watch before looking at her. She didn't need to read his mind to know what he wanted; she just needed to understand boys. If only that counted towards my GPA, she thought; I'd never have to make up a test again.

''Come on, Cohen.'' She linked arms with her guy, pulling him away from their friends. ''Tell me more about Comic Con. They make the geeks bathe, right?''

He prattled on only long enough for them to get out of earshot before joining her in watching their friends. They weren't the only ones looking, half the pier seemed to pause to stare; some (classless) people even whistled as the two locked lips again. Summer felt a little sorry for them, having to be on display like that. It just wasn't fair. Tay's face was flaming as she made her way over to them, the slightly envious and resentful look in her eyes decided the brunette. If her friend could do it, so could she; and if his brother could do it, Seth was certainly capable of it. He'd gone without this long, after all; and so had she. It couldn't be that hard, right? Tay had certainly never complained about any 'side effects' of her bargain.

Listening to her two new best friends ramble on about all the 'fun' Comic Con was going to be, she resolved not to tell them about her plan. He might plead a little, at first; but he'd ultimately respect her choice. No, it was the possibility of him getting all insecure about **why** that made her realize she might have to (eventually) tell him. She wasn't telling Tay, though. Her friend would **definitely** try and talk her out of it, citing a desire for Summer to be happy. Well, she'd just explain (when and if….okay **when** the girl figured it out) that she just couldn't enjoy herself when one of her friends was miserable.

Reaching the next level with Seth was going to have to wait until Atwood and Tay were clear of their 'deal'.

It was only fair, after all.


	4. Four

**A/N:** A short little fluffy bit before the drama arrives. Enjoy!

-- xxx –

''Grandpa, you **suck**.'' Caleb raised his eyebrows at his taller grandson, amused by the deep disgust in the teasing tone. ''Seriously, you're worse than Dad, and I didn't think that was even **possible**.'' Seth stood, shaking his head as he handed the video game controller to his brother. ''At least you're giving Ryan some much-needed victories. I think I'll spare myself the trauma of watching you two fumble around and see if there's anything left from dinner.'' The boy left the pool house, still shaking his head sorrowfully.

''You really wanna play?'' Cal saw the reluctant light in the blonde boy's eyes and was glad to put the controller down.

''Not particularly.'' Ryan sighed with relief, turning the game off and storing the equipment away. The older man stood up from his seat at the end of the bed and stretched, noting with pride that the boy didn't so much as flinch, or cringe away from him. It was a mix of the kid's own guts, and the lengths they'd both come, since that night. Kiki had even complimented him on getting on so well with his grandsons. Grand**sons**. There was a word he'd never thought he'd be using: Seth apparently destined to be an only child and Hailey……He focused his attention back to the present to avoid the pain of wondering where his youngest girl was, and what she was (**how** she was) doing. ''Billiards is more my game. Poker.''

''I play some poker. Pool, too.'' There was one of the boy's little half-smiles pulling at the young face: the ducked head and sideways look told the man that the kid was probably a shark and a hustler. He'd have to watch himself, not underestimate his grandson like he had that Summer girl.

''I've lost enough money today, because of you.'' Cal teased, grinning. The phone call from Veronica had been entertaining; livening up an otherwise monotonous business day. It had been worth his loss in the 'kissing' pool to inform the woman that **no**, he wasn't going to allow her to change the rules this late in the game. She was sure keeping him on his toes; he'd have to make sure she didn't try and pull anything else, and already had some ideas in motion.

''You lost a bet with Summer.'' It wasn't a question, and Ryan seemed extremely amused that the older man had been taken in. Seth should've warned me about that little minx, Caleb thought. She's a lot sharper than she lets on.

''Which I realized after a **very** interesting call from Veronica.'' His new grandson didn't flinch, or look embarrassed. He looked, point of fact, a little irritated, meeting Cal's gaze squarely. ''You sure kissing the girl's such a good idea, the situation being what it is?'' Arms crossed over his chest, the kid actually looked like he was daring the older man to go further. He really shouldn't have done that; the Newport Group hadn't been built by backing down from a challenge. Cal grinned wider, crossing his own arms confidently. ''Going to make it a little difficult to sleep, don't you think?'' The blue eyes dropped, bottom lip pulled between teeth; he had him now, time for the coup de grace. ''I understand you're already taking an ice bath, every morning.'' There it was. Red colored the boy's face, he shifted his feet and looked anywhere but at the old man. Victory, Cal crowed inwardly. His triumphant mood was broken by the boy's softly-spoken question.

''Why did you call me your grandson?'' The crossed arms were no longer challenging; **now** the posture was a defensive – more of a hunching over than the proud stance he'd had only moments before.

How to answer that? There was the flippant response of 'ask Sandy' or the semi-truthful answer that he'd done it for Seth and Kiki; but that wasn't entirely true, not anymore. The impulsive gesture to put Veronica in her place and start healing the rift with his daughter had turned into one of his more brilliant moves. Over the past week, he'd come to know a lot about the boy; more than he thought Sandy or Kirsten did, more than even Seth did. It had started with the investigators he'd hired to unravel the puzzle of Ryan Atwood. The things they'd found out about the kid's background …….He'd never felt such a surge of disgusted rage before in his life. His own upbringing had been hard, but he hadn't had to deal with the trauma of an abusive or alcoholic parents. It wasn't pity that moved him to get closer with the boy, though.

It was respect.

To have gone through what he'd gone through and still be capable of forming relationships with people, still be** willing** to reach out to people…… Caleb knew that if any one of the people who'd screwed the young man over (and he included the Atwood family at the top of **that** list) showed up, needing help; Ryan would do whatever he could to solve the problem, fix the mess. Because that's what family did. He wondered where the kid had gotten his ideas about how a family was supposed to operate; God knew he couldn't be basing it on anything he'd experienced for himself. Every instinct the older man had honed over years of dealing with boardroom sharks told him that the stories his investigators had dug up were true. The bad (horrifyingly so) as well as the good.

Every person they'd talked to had declared that the boy 'deserved' this new life; but they couldn't say exactly **why**. **He** knew why; just as he knew what it was that had made Seth befriend him so quickly, what drove Kiki to take him in, even what had caused Sandford to give a juvenile delinquent his home number. The singular trait that drew people to the kid like moths to a flame.

He _**cared**_.

Despite all his experience with the darker side of humanity, the boy cared about people. Not the superficial 'caring' as most people meant it; the unspoken agreement of mutual use, as easily rescinded as it was given. Nor was it the outer people the kid cared about; the masks most wore seemed invisible to that piercing gaze. No, the young man may not gift his deep loyalty to **everyone**; but, once spent, he never withdrew it. There was no measuring how far he'd go for the people he cared about. Too bad Ryan didn't consider himself to be one of those people, worth defending, worth knowing. Which made his internal question as important as it was difficult. How to answer? Simply, with truth.

''I like you.'' Caleb told him bluntly, letting his grin fade to a serious expression. The boy's startled look, the furrow that appeared between his brows; spoke quite loudly to the youngster's lack of experience with compliments. He was sure Kiki would provide the kid with a pile of them, given half the chance. ''You're smart, you're tough, and you won't allow anyone to hurt our family in any way; not even me.'' He went over and put a hand on the young man's shoulder, locking eyes with him. ''And things have sure been more interesting since you showed up.'' That got a laugh out of the boy, and Cal tapped his knuckles on the muscular upper arm. ''Now, let's see if we can't find what Kiki did with my old pool table.''


	5. Five

**A/N: **Just for those who don't already know: manga is Japanese comic books. Jeshonin manga (and I'm probably horribly misspelling that) is Japanese comic books consisting mainly of teenage drama focusing primarily on romance. Hmmm. Sounds familiar, somehow……

Also, I've only been to one (very small) general sci-fi convention, so please excuse my (most likely glaring) mistakes.

-- xxx –

Comicon was awesome.

Okay, so it was usually awesome, but this year it was Superman awesome. No, it was the entire **genre** awesome. It was so un**belie**vably awesome that no word had yet been invented to describe such a level of freaking awesomeness. Because this year was better than the others. No, this year was better than the others **combined**. This year, a miracle had happened (maybe more than one, to be honest). But the current miracle under discussion?

Summer Roberts was here. At Comicon. With him.

Poets spent lifetimes looking for words to describe how ecstatic Seth Cohen was at this precise moment.

The three of them had wandered around, pulled one way or the other by whatever caught his or Taylor's eye. Summer had dragged after, listening with a decreasingly patient expression to his attempts to hook her interest. It had been the manga booths that saved him, really. Specifically, the Jeshonin manga. It wasn't 'The Valley' (that project had apparently fell through) but it was close enough for Miss Roberts. He'd actually had to drag her away from the area to eat lunch. Not to mention the** four** trips up to their rooms to drop off her purchases, when she'd located the show room. Moses, could that girl shop. Only the other girl's mention that this stuff was available online had put a halt to what looked like an attempt to clean out the genre's entire stock.

If he never saw a pair of big soulful eyes surrounded by plush again, it would be too soon.

She was currently holding forth on one of her newly discovered passions to a crowd of like-minded girls. 'Comics: not just for geeks anymore' seemed to be Summer's new mantra. Taylor was knocking them dead over by the Korean anime. Not that he understood a word, but everyone was laughing and she didn't look crushed; so they must be laughing **with** her. Then there was his own conversation.

''…….well, there's a reason that piece of crap didn't do well in the box office….'' Right now, they were debating the way the movie industry had destroyed the cherished myths of fans everywhere. This Zach guy really knew his stuff, too; story arcs, artists, writers, characters.

They'd run into each other at a signing, waiting for the line to snake it's glacial way up to the 'artist of the month'. Bored out of his mind (his two companions having abandoned him for the manga) he'd struck up a conversation with the first person who seemed to have even a gleam of intelligence (and regular bathing habits, some of the fans were……well, ew!). Zach Stephens was a gold mine of comic trivia, almost as knowledgeable as Seth was himself. They'd been so engrossed in conversation, the mediator (who kept the line moving and the fans' gushing short) had actually had to call their attention to the fact that they'd reached the head of the line. After that embarrassing incident of bonding, they'd made their way to the edge of the manga area; so he could watch his friends and continue the fascinating conversation at the same time.

''Don't look now, but that girl you've been staring at is on her way over.'' Zach warned him, resembling Luke in his attitude of friendly concern.

''Which one?'' Seth turned his head to see the glorious wonder coming towards him. ''Oh.'' It was Summer, and she looked thoroughly excited. He decided teasing her about being so enthused over **comics** could wait until the trip home; right now he just wanted to bask in the fact that she was pleased with him. Maybe, if she was really happy; they could go back to the kissing? It had only been a day since she'd last grabbed him aside somewhere and smooched him, but it **felt** like forever. He was started to think maybe she'd changed her mind about liking him **that **way. Pushing aside his fears, he indicated his new friend as he greeted his lite-o-life. ''Hey, Summer. I want you to meet…..''

''Zach Stephens?'' She sounded amazed and dismayed, all at once. She started looking around at the crowds obviously scanning for someone. ''Is the rest of the team here? Luke and all?'' Wait, team? Luke? Oh, crap. He started scanning the crowd, too. The last thing any one of them needed was a confrontation between Marissa 'bad squirrel' Cooper and Taylor 'Cinderella' Townsend. 'Cataclysm' didn't even begin to describe it.

''Dude, you're from Newport? And you play water polo?'' He was horrified. Here he was thinking that he'd made a new friend, a fellow enthusiast; and the guy turns out to be hell spawn. Life was so unfair. ''Why didn't you mention that you go to Harbor?'' He squinted brown eyes at the taller boy, trying to see if there was a hint of familiarity. Fellow comic lover or not; if this was one of the guys who'd pee-ed in his shoes, their budding friendship was** so** over.

''I don't. At least, not lately.'' The other shrugged, smiling reassuringly at them both. ''Dad needed the boost of 'family values' to get re-elected, so I spent last fall with tutors, touring with him on the campaign trail. Mom decided that spring semester was too late to try and fit back into the school; so I ended up home schooled all of last year. We went deep-sea diving in Hawaii as a reward.'' The boy frowned at Summer, tilting his head curiously. ''I don't think we've actually met, have we?'' He extended his hand, still smiling; a smile that was suddenly not at all reassuring to Seth. Because he recognized the guy, now. Not one of the throng of Seth-baiters, but something even worse. A 'nice guy' who was athletic, smart, and popular; possessing some of the same quirks that had peaked Summer's interest. In other words: competition. Operation Summer was officially in peril. ''Pleased to meet you……?''

''Summer Roberts.'' She seemed indifferent to the movie star looks of the guy, thankfully; still scanning her gaze across the crowd. ''Luke threw a party for the 'new lineup' and I was there with his girlfriend.'' She focused dark eyes on Zach, making him take a step back, dropping his hand and shooting a worried look towards Seth. ''Is Marissa **here**? Or Luke?''

''No, it's not really their thing.'' The other boy rubbed his hands on his jeans, like he was nervous, for some reason. Was it a good sign or a bad one that the girl made intimidated him? Seth couldn't tell, he needed a consult with Taylor, **stat**. ''They're probably in TJ with the rest of that crowd.''

''Why aren't you there?'' The tone was accusatory and he felt the glimmerings of hope that, maybe, she wouldn't be into the guy, after all. Delicate jaw clenched, arms crossed; she was beyond hot; but the focus of her ire seemed more unsettled than turned on. He discarded the fleeting thought, comforting though it was, that the other was gay. No one could talk about the fit of Catwoman's costumes with such……..fascinated interest and be gay.

''Drunken debauchery isn't really **my **thing.'' Crud, Zach was getting his confidence back. Apparently, the he had seen that Summer wasn't mad at him, per se, just the circumstances. Impulsively, Seth put his arm around his slowly relaxing love interest; feeling his heart skip when she hugged him briefly back. Best of all, the taller boy didn't even frown or look jealous; in fact, he looked ……..supportive? Approving? Something like that. He moved the guy back into the 'friend' category with relief.

''Isn't that a violation of union rules or something?'' Seth quipped, his world once more brimming with possibilities. Summer moved out from under his arm, but took hold of his hand comfortably, pulling him towards the girl waving them over. ''I mean, you **are** a water polo player from Newport, after all.''

''Well, it looks to me like you guys are all about breaking with tradition.'' Zach's smile was pointed as he tagged along, his gaze lingered on their linked fingers.

''Touche'. '' Taylor observed, hazel eyes curious as she examined the new addition to the group. She obviously had amazing hearing, to have caught that comment as they approached. ''Speaking of traditions, there's an amazing free-for-all forum going on in the cafeteria. Right now, I think it's about team-ups.'' She looked over her shoulder, and one of the Korean manga crowd nodded enthusiastically. She returned her gaze to her friends, missing the way the boy's dark eyes flickered in excitement. From where he was looking, though, Seth felt that his interest probably wasn't in the forum, or the food. His brother's girl must've sensed something, because she whirled around, catching the Oriental in the act of staring at her butt. She snapped her fingers in his face, saying something that Seth would** bet** was Korean for 'my face is up **here**'. Whatever she said, it had the desired effect; because the guy took off, muttering stuff under his breath that probably wasn't comics code approved.

''Looks like it's just the four of us, then.'' Zach observed, offering his arm to the still simmering girl. Now, why did the courtesy of the gesture make his stomach hurt? Especially when Taylor smiled (thank Moses, just a distracted, **friendly** smile) at the guy?

''Girls need to stick together.'' Summer practically lunged forward, linking arms with her friend before the gesture could be completed. He breathed a muffled sigh of relief, wishing he'd chosen someone else to talk to in that line. The smelly guy with the Star Trek shirt was looking **real** good, right about now. ''I need someone to talk to while Cohen and his new bud geek out.'' He caught her pointed look, correctly interpreting what she was trying to tell him. He turned to see a sight that sunk his spirits right back down into 'yellowed newsprint' on his Comicon scale.

''What's her name, again?'' His new 'friend' was checking Taylor out. More discreetly than the Korean kid had, true; but still. 'Yellowed newsprint' was headed rapidly for 'waterlogged pulp'. ''The slightly taller one, the one with auburn hair.''

''Taylor Townsend.'' Seth didn't see any reason to hide it, it wasn't like it would be **impossible** for the other boy to find out. They were going to be attending the same school, after all. **That** thought made his stomach clench uncomfortably. Lunch was going to be torture, trying to derail the guy's interest without pissing him off. Nice or not, shared interests or not; piss off a water polo player and urine in one's shoes was getting off **light**. Not for the first time (but this time more in desperation than a desire to share the fun of Comicon with his brother); he found himself wanting Ryan there. He tried to fire a warning shot, wishing he'd paid more attention to who was who in Orange County. Maybe he'd have more ammo to warn the more muscular boy off if he had. ''She's got a boyfriend, sorry.'' He couldn't make himself **sound** sorry, though, which may have just encouraged the guy. His Comicon scale hit 'pile of ashes' at Zach's shrugging response.

''It's just a boyfriend; not like she's married or anything.''

-- xxx –

**A/N 2:** kudos to who can tell me where I stole the closing line - VEG


	6. Six

**A/N: **For all the people who wanted Luke back (cue evil laughter) and those who speculated about what Marissa was up to (nothing good). 

--xxx—

''Something wrong?'' 

Luke lifted himself up on his elbow, brushing hair out of Marissa's face gently. She was so beautiful, even with her face scrunched up in curiosity and her hair all sweaty from their just-finished activities. While he was enjoying all the sex they'd been having, lately (God, was he enjoying it) it was just starting to seem……..well, wrong somehow. He had no idea how to deal with it either, no clue how to handle his growing confusion, his sense that something about them, about her, was ……off. 

''I just……did you say something? While we were……..'' Blue eyes flashed at him and he sighed. He'd pissed her off. Again. Somehow, he was managing to make her mad after every single encounter, and he still couldn't get a handle on why. It was like she only liked him while they were doing it, and afterwards, she couldn't stand to be around him. The worst thing about it was the guilt, the thought that the girls he used to hook up with had felt the same way he was feeling now: dirty and used. 

''I can't believe you're still on about this!'' She was yanking her clothes on, shooting him these irritated looks as she got dressed. This time, though; this time he didn't have the energy to try and stop her. It never did any good, anyway. She just got madder at him and he felt worse and worse every time; until the next time, when she came smiling up on him and sent his brain into overload with her kisses of 'forgiveness'. 'Make-up sex' was now the only time they got together at all. He never thought he'd miss just hanging out with her, but there it was. ''I probably said 'I'm dying' because it felt so good, or probably 'I am..'' as in 'I am gonna' …..'' A flush colored her features briefly, she scrapped her hair back into a disorganized tail. For all her enthusiasm in bed, she still didn't talk about it in anything but vague terms; and he was tired of being made to feel like a pervert when she obviously liked it just as much. ''That's if I really said anything at all.''

''I'm sorry.'' He sighed, feeling sick at being held to blame, again, for just wanting her to act like herself, instead of this…….. He sat up, draping his sheet tiredly across his hips, too exhausted by her rant and what she had revealed during it to look for his own clothes. This fight was different then the others not only because he wasn't trying, but because she sounded …..defensive. Guilty. Which meant his suspicions just might be true; and that depressing thought drained the energy right out of him. '' I'm sorry, 'Riss…..'' He didn't even know what he was apologizing for; he never did, anymore. 

''Have fun in TJ, Luke.'' She snapped at him, yanking at his bedroom door before remembering that it was locked. She unlatched the door, storming through with a final parting shot. ''I'm sure Holly will be up for it.'' Luke flinched at the mention of the platinum blonde. He never should've told his girlfriend about his past indiscretions; she had far too much ammo to use against him, now. For someone who'd supposedly forgiven him, she certainly took every opportunity to get in a dig.

What really hurt, though, was that she didn't remember that he wasn't going to TJ, this year. That he had stayed behind to support her in the midst of her family's situation, to be there for her. 

He put his head in his hands, not even twitching at the distant _slam_ of the front door. He was very, very glad his mother had taken the twins shopping for back to school; he didn't need their stupid teasing right then, or his mother's overbearing concern. What he needed was to **talk** to someone, someone who could explain his girlfriend's increasingly disturbing behavior. The only problem was ……..the problem was that the only one he could think of to talk to was Atwood. 

And everything Marissa had claimed to have said during her climax rhymed with 'Ryan'. 

-- xxx –

Marissa sighed, tossing most of her Balboa bar into the garbage. It just didn't taste the same anymore, nothing tasted like it had, felt like it had. Her best friend was pissed at her for something that wasn't even her fault, her boyfriend was paranoid about perfectly reasonable slips of the tongue, and her family was falling apart. Not that anyone cared, not about **her**. All anyone seemed to care about was 'poor Taylor'. It was sickening the amount of sympathy the little whore was getting. Anyone who bought that 'princess purity' crap the girl was spewing was an idiot. No one could resist sex who had had a taste of it; **she** certainly hadn't, which meant that Townsend was nothing but a manipulative liar. 

She leaned on the rail, staring out at the ocean. Sex with Luke had felt good, really good; but the pleasure had started to fade after the third time. It wasn't **her** fault she'd needed to start fantasizing about someone else to make it good again. And where did **he** get off being mad? She was the one he'd cheated on, all those times (at least the ones he'd told her about); he had no** right** to be angry at her, suspicious of her. 

''Why if it isn't little Marissa Cooper.'' She turned at the falsely bright voice, surprised at who was standing at the rail next to her. 

''Miss Townsend?'' Everyone who ever met the woman learned (quick, if they wanted to survive the encounter) to address her properly. The woman was visciuos, cold-blooded, and scheming. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, she thought to herself. ''What are you doing here?'' She'd never heard that Veronica was into the beach scene, or had ever been seen at the pier even once. 

''I could ask you the same question, dear.'' For some reason, the unconcerned tone was comforting. The woman wasn't nice, but at least she was honest; something no one else was willing to be, these days. ''Word on the street has your family in a trailer park by the end of the month. Good thing your tuition is already paid for, right?'' 

''I suppose.'' Marissa couldn't be offended at the sniping comment. What was being whispered behind her back was probably worse than what this woman was saying to her face. The rudeness also meant that she didn't have to be polite back. ''What do you want?''

''My daughter may not care about my……her reputation, but I do.'' She pretended not to have heard the slip, honestly disinterested in Taylor's family drama. ''Unfortunately, if I forbid her outright, it'll just force them closer together; and if I try anything else, the little shit will sic Caleb Nichol on me.'' Veronica actually seemed nervous about the possibility of Seth's grandfather being 'sicced' on her. Good to know, she thought. She knew where this was heading, but kept quiet to hear the offer. No need to tell the other that she'd be willing to pry Ryan from Taylor's clutches for free. ''You, on the other hand, are right next door to him.'' That was ominous, she hoped that the woman's plan didn't include harming the blonde boy; she had too many uses in mind for him to risk physical damage. Silence stretched on and on until she finally had to ask for more info, or walk away. 

''You still haven't said what you want.'' She prompted the woman, returning her gaze to the ocean. Marissa was the one who had been approached, that meant she was the one with the power, appearances to the contrary. It was hard not to gloat when the other started speaking, but it got easier as the plan was laid out. Simplistically brilliant, really; nothing she couldn't handle. In fact, it meshed well with some ideas (and fantasies) she'd had herself. What she hadn't heard was the most important part: the payoff. Breaking him up with that bimbo (and humiliating the other girl in the process) was all well and good, but Miss Townsend didn't know about her personal desires. Therefore, there had to be some other form of compensation being offered. ''What's in it for me?'' 

''A….business associate of mine will hire your father.'' Miss Townsend dusted at the rail with her fingers, rubbing the smudges off the tips with her thumb. It was a confident, disdainful gesture; and she was entitled to it. The offer (if it was valid) wasn't something Marissa could afford to refuse. ''He'll be quite comfortable and well able to support himself, and you, should the divorce become final.'' Hearing that her parents might be getting a divorce was painful, but she pushed the feeling away. Showing weakness would only give the upper hand to her ……..boss? certainly not friend. Maybe, as Veronica had said, 'associate'? ''Of course, you realize this conversation never happened.'' She tossed a business card carefully into the garbage and walked away. 

Marissa waited a good ten minutes before gingerly fishing the card out, making sure that no one saw her. It wouldn't do to be spotted going through the trash; her family had taken enough hits, lately. She smiled down at the digits, wheels already turning in her head; thinking that it was totally someone else's turn to be Newport's social pariahs. The only downside to setting the whole thing in motion was the necessity of having lunch with her mother. With Sum unavailable, though, the gossip spreading had to start somewhere; and Julie would have vital intel on the other players in this little drama. 

Suddenly, she felt like having another Balboa bar. She felt that this one would be absolutely **delicious**. 


	7. Seven

**A/N: **Don't worry, nobody dies.

--xxx—

Ryan rose off his bike seat for the climb up the final hill on the approach towards home. He slowed down as he neared the drive, hoping Cal was there. With Seth and the girls out of town, he'd had the Cohen's full attention all last night (and most of today) and it was getting a little smothering. He could only beg out for work for a few hours (Steve was moving him towards part-time as school approached) and the same went for study breaks. At least the old man didn't pester him about how he was feeling while they played pool, didn't constantly ask if he needed anything. All right, to be fair, it wasn't **constant**; but it **was** getting on his nerves. He knew it wasn't that they didn't believe him when he said he was fine, they just thought he was being ……..well, him. There had been a **very** uncomfortable conversation with Sandy about how he couldn't be afraid to ask for things that he needed, that he had to let them know what was going on so they could do their jobs as his parents. 

After years of surviving by keeping his mouth shut, everyone suddenly wanted him to talk. 

He got off the bike, frowning at the tail end of Luke's truck in the drive. Not that he didn't want to see his friend (especially as it would give his new parents someone else to fuss over), but why wasn't the other boy in TJ? Had something happened? He was about to start pushing his ride up toward the door when he saw a figure huddled in the shadow of the wall separating the Cohen's place from the Cooper's. Laying the bike in the driveway, he cautiously approached, seeing with some apprehension that it was Marissa, and that she was crying. He wanted very much to just walk away, to send Kirsten down to deal with the girl and have done. Luke was up there, though, and that might have something to do with why she was crying, which meant that any attempt to pass things off to his adopted mother would probably backfire horribly. 

'"Hey.'' Ryan sat down next to the girl, looking down out over the rest of their neighborhood, knowing how embarrassing it was to have people stare when crying. Well, that's what he remembered from the last time he'd cried: age three, he thought he'd been. After being given a 'real reason' to cry by his father, he'd never run the risk again, so he wasn't sure.

''Hey.'' Marissa sounded really upset, he saw her wiping at her face out of the corner of his eyes. She sighed, moving a little closer to him. ''My parents are getting a divorce.'' She confessed, making it sound like the end of the world. In her case, it probably was: these people put a lot more into their family connections than anyone in Chino ever had. Aside from Theresa's family, but he felt so guilty over the way he'd left **that** situation, he stopped thinking about it. She was covering her face with her hands, making little whimpering remarks about how uncertain her future was, or something like that. Now he** really** wished he'd gotten Kirsten to deal with this, she sounded absolutely crushed. 

''Maybe you'll end up with your Dad.'' It was the only positive thing he could think to say that wasn't condescending or patronizing. He put his arm awkwardly around her, squeezing her shoulder gently in what he hoped would be interpreted as a friendly manner. He had no idea how to comfort her, how to help; aside from trying to get her to come up to the house with him (which might be a bad idea, giving the possible Luke situation). She turned into him, clutching at his shirt, and leaving him patting her back uneasily. Something was off, he was just thinking, when she pushed him back into the grass, taking him by surprise with her sudden burst of strength. 

''Wha….?'' She straddled his waist, kissing him harshly, trying to push her tongue into his mouth. Despite the surge of blood below his belt, he kept his lips firmly closed, angrier with her than he'd ever been with any girl in his life. He grabbed her shoulders, pushing her away. "I'm with Taylor, dammit.'' He rasped, scowling at her in growing rage as she ignored him to pull his tee out of his pants. He grabbed at her hands, cursing when she took advantage of his transferred grip to kiss him again. He twisted his face away, snarling at the bitch. ''Stop it, Marissa.'' Grabbing her upper arms and pushing her away, her freed fingers went right to his jeans, unbuttoning them and palming his groin. ''Stop….'' His voice came out choked, shaking, and very unconvincing. One month was longer than he'd ever gone without, and he couldn't quite help reacting to her touch, twitching upwards, groaning in a mix of lust, frustration, and anger. ''Marissa!'' Desperate to stop her, he flipped them both over, pinning her briefly to the ground. 

''Help!" She cried out, freezing him in the act of pushing violently away from her body. Ryan peered at her in confusion, worried that she wasn't a drunk after all, just insane. 

''Asshole!'' Someone shouted, yanking him upright, away from the girl pulling her own blouse open, ripping the buttons. He looked up into Luke's blazing eyes, opening his mouth to explain, when the other boy's fist connected with his jaw. His former thoughts about the guy's punching ability were right; he could certainly hit. Two blows and he was down, barely having time to wonder what the sharp pain in the back of his head was about before darkness claimed him. 

-- xxx –

''Oh my God.'' Luke stared in horror at the sight before him, wondering how things had gotten so bad. 

He'd finally decided to come talk to Atwood, to clear the air. He knew there was no **way **the guy was cheating on Taylor, but he figured the other deserved to know about Marissa's little slip of the tongue. Maybe they could work out some kind of plan to help the girl, because it looked like she had a **lot** more problems than her relationship with him. Mrs. Cohen had been surprised to see him, but welcomed him in anyway, asking after his girl (former girl he guessed) with friendly concern. He hadn't been too convincing about nothing being wrong, not from the way the woman and her husband had eyed him from the kitchen as he paced the foyer, unsure whether or not he was doing the right thing. When he'd gotten tired of waiting, Mr. Cohen had walked him to the door, assuring him that their ward would call as soon as the other boy got home. He'd seen the bike at the end of the drive just as he was opening his door, leaving it ajar as he rushed to the base of the hill, thinking that something must've happened to his friend. He'd followed the sounds to his right, just in time to see Atwood flip Marissa over onto her back. 

Rage had blinded him to all else, especially his common sense, as he yanked the other boy away from his girlfriend. He didn't even give the guy a chance to explain: the unbuttoned jeans and shirt pulled free to expose his stomach seemed all the evidence he needed. Some kind of ripping sound accompanied his punching, but it was the sharp, terrifying _crack _of Ryan's head impacting one of the stones bordering the grass that broke him free of his anger. 

Marissa was babbling at him, but he ignored her to wipe shaking hands on his jeans, falling to his knees beside the other boy. He felt for a pulse, nearly fainting in relief when it throbbed under his fingers, getting really light-headed when there was a tickle of breath against the palm he held over the slightly gaping mouth. Luke felt sick, seeing the blood pooling under the blonde head, staining the grass and the pavement both. His former girlfriend started screaming, slapping him about the head and shoulders. He pushed her away, ignoring the distant sounds of opening doors as his suspicions gelled and his patience finally snapped.

''This's the second time I've nearly killed this guy because of you, 'Riss.'' His voice shook, uncertain if it this was going to remain a 'nearly' with blood still oozing onto the ground, the same blood coloring his knuckles. ''Why couldn't you just leave him alone?'' He sat back on his heels, resting his palm on the prone boy's chest to feel the reassuring beat, the rise and fall of his breathing. So long as he felt those things, he wasn't a killer, wasn't a bad guy. 

''Marissa, what…..Oh my God.'' Mrs. Cooper cast horrified eyes around at their little tableau, coming quickly over to put her arm around her daughter. 

''He attacked me, Mom.'' Marissa sobbed, clinging to the woman like she hadn't been bitching about her to him all week. Disgust filled him and he looked away, catching sight of something moving; further down the street.

''I don't think he did.'' Luke told the older woman, squinting towards the bottom of the hill, shaking his head when the movement he thought he'd seen turned out to be nothing. 

''What's….Ryan!'' Mr. Cohen rushed over, falling to his knees beside them and feeling for the pulse. He shared a look of relief with the man, unable to maintain the eye contact with guilt surging through him. 

''I'll call an ambulance.'' Mrs. Cohen turned away, dialing her cell with shaking fingers. The calculating look on the Cooper girl's face tightened his stomach, making him wish he'd stopped to listen to the other boy's explanation. Maybe they still would've **fought,** but at least the guy might not be lying there with his head all busted up. 

''I should think that **now** you'll be sending that **thug** back to Juvie, where he belongs.'' Mrs. Cooper snapped at Mr. Cohen, who glared up at the woman with obvious resentment. 

''Julie, now isn't……''

''He attacked my daughter!'' 

''No, he didn't.'' Everyone was still staring at him in shock when Mrs. Cohen came over to inform them that the ambulance was on the way. She tugged at her husband's tee shirt, and the man pulled it rapidly off, folding it up to pad under her adopted son's head. Crap, he'd had CPR training, why hadn't **he** done that? Because you were too worried you'd **killed** him, that's why, he told himself. 

''Son, did you see….'' He had to shake his head, hating the disappointed look on that weary face, the smug expression on Mrs. Cooper's. He tried to explain with his eyes how sorry he was, accepting the understanding grip of Mr. Cooper's hand on his shoulder with massive guilt. If it wasn't for him, Atwood would be losing miserably at Play Station right now while they discussed the Marissa thing. Instead, he was unconscious and bleeding into his adopted father's 'New York' tee-shirt. 

''I thought he **was**, but then…..'' Luke looked at the still form, lying in the grass and swallowed against the urge to puke. As long as his palm moved slightly up and down, as long as there was warmth under it, he didn't have to hate himself. 

''I don't want you to feel guilty about defending my daughter, Luke.'' Mrs. Cooper scowled in the direction of the approaching sirens. ''We should probably tell them to have him restrained.''

''Julie!''

''Of all the…..''

''He **didn't** attack her.'' He looked expectantly at his former girlfriend, frowning when she shook her head. Her reluctance to come clean confused him, and he had to wonder if he'd imagined her good points, or just been completely blind to her bad. He was going to 'fess up, though, to **everything**; regardless of the consequences. He was, after all, one of the 'Three Amigos'. It was the least he could do. ''I think **she **attacked **him** and he was trying to fight her off.'' Mrs. Cooper gave a snort, shaking her head as the ambulance's lights washed over them. 

''Why would you think something like that?'' She scoffed at him, flushing as the rest of the neighborhood gathered to watch the vehicle's approach.

''Because she called out his name while we were having sex.'' 


	8. Eight

**A/N: **Be cool, be cool: he's not dead. Seriously, I like him too much to kill him, people! 

-- xxx –

Sandy paused outside the waiting lounge, running his hand over his face and wishing he had better news. As the parent with the most information about Ryan's medical background, he'd been allowed to ride in the ambulance with the boy and the paramedics; whose rapid-fire questions weren't exactly reassuring. He'd felt like such a failure when he'd had to admit that he didn't know how many times his son had received a head injury. Oh, he knew how many times that he'd been to the hospital for 'accidents'; but how many times had there been injury when there hadn't been, for whatever reason, medical care? His stomach twisted each time the professionals around him exchanged concerned looks, each time their speech ventured into language he couldn't follow. 

Kirsten was slumped into a chair against the far wall, staring into space as her father faced off against Julie, who kept shooting her weeping daughter uncertain looks. Luke just stood stone-still, as if he was bracing himself for the worst. The expression on the young face was devastated by guilt and shame, he felt his anger leave him, seeing how much the boy truly did regret his actions. He'd reserve his forgiveness until Ryan conveyed his own, though. If he ever woke up, if he was capable……..He shook the thoughts away as he entered the room, gaining the full attention of all it's occupants. 

''Sandford.'' Caleb was shrugging out of his suit jacket, holding it out to him. Why on Earth……..? Oh. He'd forgotten, in all his worry, that he'd left his shirt with the paramedics, soaked with Ryan's blood. His wife rose out of her seat slowly, face expectant and tight with fear. 

''Thanks, Cal.'' He put the jacket on over his bare skin, buttoning it closed. He'd have time to be amazed at thanking his father in law for anything, later. Right now, he'd better give a status report; or his approaching wife would turn into 'The Kirsten' and no one would be spared her wrath. ''He's stable.'' Some to the tension left the room, Luke collapsed into a chair like someone had cut the strings off a puppet. Even Julie looked relieved, for a brief instant. ''They're running some tests to see if they have to perform surgery.'' 

''Surgery?!'' Kirsten grabbed his hand, her fingers ice-cold, grey eyes huge with motherly concern. He put his arms around her, rubbing her back soothingly. ''They're talking surgery?'' She clutched his borrowed jacket, looking like she wanted to shake good news out of him. 

''It's a head injury, honey, they just want to be sure…….'' He didn't want to go into the details of how serious things could be; the worst-case scenarios the doctors had painted for him were enough to give him nightmares for the next millennium. He wouldn't do that to his wife. Cal caught his eye and nodded his understanding. 

''I'll put in a call; if they need a surgeon of any kind, he'll get the best.'' That seemed to reassure Kirsten, he felt some of the tension leave her at the show of her father's full support. The old man shot a look of concern towards the hall, then scowled around the room as Marissa started crying again. ''While we're waiting, I'd like to know what the **hell** is going on here.'' 

'' What's going on is that little punk you dragged into civilized society attached my daughter.'' Julie crossed her arms over her chest, matching Cal glare for glare. He had to admire the woman's nerve, if not her actions. Not many people would chance angering Caleb Nichol, especially if their situation was a precarious as the Cooper's was. ''I fully intend to press charges and see to it that he's locked away, for **good** this time.'' 

''Mom!''

''Mrs. Cooper……''

''I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding.'' Sandy cut in over the protests of the two teens. He hadn't seen any of what happened, but he knew this kid. The Cooper girl's story had to be fake, probably born out of some teenage jealousy. He wasn't going to let her ruin his son's life with something this petty. Luke's testimony would be vital, he thought, already planning his defense; if he ever snaps out of it. The boy was still slumped in his seat, looking a little wild-eyed as he watched the adults argue. From what he knew of the Wards, it was probably the first 'domestic dispute' situation the kid had ever witnessed. 

''I **know** it is.'' He wasn't the only one surprised at the utter certainty, solid as granite, in the older man's tone. His wife made a little questioning noise, gaining a rueful smile from her father. ''I did a little digging into his background.'' His father-in-law looked embarrassed at the admission, more so when Kirsten stepped out of Sandy's embrace and put her hands on her hips. 

''Dad, how could you?'' The Kirsten had arrived, in full, furious defense of her son. Encouraged as he was about how far she'd come from wanting the boy out of her house (and how much he enjoyed it when she got aggressive) he didn't want to have another family crises on his hands. Besides (and his gut tightened further at the thought) they might **need** the old man and his connections. His power and influence might be vital in ensuring that their son got the absolute best of care. 

''I just wanted to understand the boy, Kiki.'' Sandy relaxed a bit, but his wife threw up her hands at the explanation; exasperated beyond patience, by her expression. 

''You could've just **talked** to him!'' He couldn't help the snort of laughter that burst from him and neither, unfortunately, could his father-in-law. ''What is so damn…..'' Her grey eyes were snapping furiously as she whirled on him, shooting her father resentful looks as she apparently tried to decide which of them to be angrier with. 

''I don't know if you've noticed, honey, but Ryan's not much of a talker.'' That was putting it mildly, especially when you tried talking to him about anything pre-Newport. He'd thought, after Seth, that there was nothing he'd like more than a boy who was a little quieter; but the appeal of those ducked-head stares had waned in the frustration of trying to be a parent to a kid who obviously thought he didn't need one. Right now, though, he'd take a **lifetime** of silent glares and uncomfortable looks; just to have him back home where he belonged. 

''Someone had better start talking.'' Cal sounded exasperated, settling his gaze to glare at Luke, who flinched back into his chair. ''You want to explain why you felt the need to break open my grandson's head?'' 

''Cal…..'' He warned, seeing the guilty terror in the kid's face. Whatever teen drama was going on here, the boy knew what he'd done and wasn't trying to duck responsibility for it. His continued presence here spoke volumes about how seriously he was taking the situation. 

''He was defending my daughter.'' Julie sounded like she was repeating herself, and he frowned, seeing the shamed look that ghosted across Marissa's face. Before he could take advantage of the crack in the girl's composure, Luke exploded, bolting up out of his seat to face his (most likely former) girlfriend.

''No, I wasn't. I thought I **was**, but it was all her.'' He pointed a shaking finger in a very accusing fashion. '**'Ask** her. Ask her **why** she decided to sleep with me, the night of his birthday party.'' Cal was indicated, and all the adults frowned, trying to remember if the two teens had been there, that night. The blush covering her face gave credence to Luke's story, deepening as he continued to harangue her. ''You didn't say 'I am', did you? You said '**Ryan'**. Atwood lied, didn't he? When he said you chose me, the night the model home burnt down.'' Julie twitched, shooting her daughter a look of stunned realization. There had apparently been a conversation at the Cooper house to lend even more verisimilitude to this recounting of events. ''You didn't, did you; you went up there for **him**, and he turned you down. That's why you were crying, wasn't it?'' The girl was crying **now**, face flaming as she avoided looking at anyone. There was pain in his stance, hurt colored the younger man's voice, choked it shaking as he tried to continue. ''Why, 'Riss? Is it…….was it the drinking?'' Julie frowned, opening her mouth, but Cal's hand on her shoulder silenced (remarkably) whatever she was going to say. The old man's eyes were narrowed, speculative as he stared at the couple before him. ''Or was it just that he picked Taylor over you?'' 

''This has nothing to do with that slut!'' Marissa shot to her feet, fists clenched as anger replaced the shame in her expression. Kirsten put a comforting hand on Luke's arm as he stepped backwards, away from the angry young woman. ''She's a lying little manipulative bitch who…..''

''Not very convincing there, sweetie.'' Julie overrode the rant with false concern, grabbing her daughter's hand and looking at them all with apology written on her features, though she didn't voice it as she dragged the girl from the room. ''Hope he recovers.'' There was sincerity in the tone. Not much, but it was there. So long as it was enough to keep her from pressing charges, he'd take it. 

''I don't like it.'' Cal observed, and Sandy wondered what the old dog had garnered from that little scene that he'd missed. So much about previous events had been made clear, but so many other questions had been raised, he didn't know which to ask first. He needed to sleep on it to replay every nuance so he could gain full understanding; but that wouldn't happen until someone in a white coat walked in and set his fears to rest. 

''Something's up.'' He agreed, more concerned with his son's welfare than the surprising occurrence (which was happening more and more often, lately) of being in agreement with his father-in-law. His brow furrowed, mind worrying at both problems, twisting his thoughts into frustrated circles. Later, he told himself, pushing the thoughts back; I'll think about it later. 

''Can it wait?'' Kirsten was encouraging Luke to sit back down, fussing over the only boy she had access to. Sandy didn't envy Ryan the coddling he was going to get, when they finally got him home. If they got him home, his paternal instinct reminded him, and his stomach soured with dire possibilities. ''I don't think this has anything to do with The Deal; it sounds more like ……''

''What deal?'' There was true confusion in the young face, and they all stared, gaping at him. 

''The deal with Veronica, to let Ryan see Taylor.'' Kirsten's explanation didn't clear the confusion away. If anything, it seemed to deepen. ''Seth didn't tell you?'' 

''Seth.'' Sandy sighed, not looking forward to the conversation he knew he was going to have. His wife's voice faded as he reluctantly pulled out his cell. Only knowing that he'd never be forgiven for keeping this from his son, his other son, made him hit the speed dial. Besides, having the boy home would reassure Kirsten (and probably Cal, come to think of it) as well as be a comfort to Ryan. 

''_Yes, Father, we've found a place to eat dinner. You'd think after years of living on take-out, you'd have more faith in my….._'' He smiled a bit at the rambling, exasperated way his boy answered the phone. It made his news a little easier to deliver. 

''Seth Ezekiel.'' He only used his son's full name when matters were serious, and the sudden silence on the other end carried an air of horror. ''It's Ryan.'' 


	9. Nine

**A/N: **Final chapter for this story, so enjoy! Still trying to correct the 'Sethula' from chapter eight to 'Seth Ezekiel'. Ooopsie. 

--xxx—

''Ryan?! What **about** Ryan?!'' Seth didn't care that everyone in the hotel restaurant was staring at his strangled shouting, that the maitre de was headed over with a severe expression. The combination of his actual name with the tight concern in his father's voice……. He knew that 'I'm-keeping-it-together' tone from the man. It was the same tone that had preceded their move from Berkeley and the news that Grandma Rose had died. ''Dad?''

_''He got in a fight with Luke, hit his head on a rock.'' _

''Oh my God.'' His terror and dismay must be playing across his face, because Summer put her hands over her mouth, brown eyes huge with fear. The approaching head waiter slowed as the man got a good look at him, and even Zach appeared concerned through his confusion. It was Taylor's reaction that worried him most, though. Her face was set, frozen in an unemotional mask: she could give Ryan some real competition for 'stone face of the year'. Somehow, given her usual frenetic manner, it was even worse than his girlfriend's teary-eyed expression of horror.

_''He's stable, and your mother and I are here with your Grandfather; but…..''_

''We'll leave right now.'' Seth clicked the phone shut, not wanting to hear anything else but that his brother was fine, that it was all a huge (very stupid) joke. He gestured emphatically to the maitre de, standing as he yanked at his wallet. He had to stop for a second to remember which pocket it was in, trying to steady his shaking fingers enough to pry it out. ''We'll get something on the road. Wait, our stuff…..'' He shrugged, perfectly okay with just leaving everything if it got him back to Newport and his family that much sooner. His mother was probably a wreck, with no one to fuss over and make her feel like she was doing something. ''Never mind. I'll just…..'' He couldn't think, because Luke was one of the Three Amigos now, so how could this have **happened?**

''I'll take care of it.'' Zach pulled his wallet out with a smoothness he couldn't match if he tried a hundred times. He was grateful, even though the guy was macking on his brother's girl, because someone had apparently super-glued his pockets shut. ''Give me your room numbers and leave a note with the concierge and I can have them pack up your stuff for you and send it along.'' 

''But first tell us what Sandy said.'' Her calm monotone belied the intensity of her hazel gaze, and he swallowed at the chill that went through him when he looked into it. Suddenly, he didn't think she was adopted at all, he **so** believed that she was Veronica Townsend's natural-born daughter, and perfectly capable of ripping him apart should he fail to relate the requested information. 

''Ryan got in a fight and his head hit a rock.'' For the guy's own safety, no way was he going to mention Luke's involvement. He thought his own sweetie's rage blackouts were frightening, but they were **nothing** compared to the icy rage across the table. If this is was the kind of attitude his brother had faced off with to woo his damsel, he owed the guy every ounce of respect he possessed.

''There's more to it than that, but it can wait.'' She stood, every inch of her stiff with tension. How the heck had she known he was leaving something out? He made a mental note to warn her boyfriend to never try and lie to the girl. About anything. Not that he would, but thinking about such inane things distracted him from the scenarios his imagination was conjuring. Sometimes being creative really sucked. ''Thank you for your assistance.'' Polite as it was, glaciers held more warmth than she was showing Mr. Stevens, and he felt a touch of relief through his fear. Despite Summer's dire mutterings, it looked like there wasn't going to be a triangle, after all. 

''Sure.'' The other boy looked confused, probably wondering if he'd pissed her off or something. Seth felt the smug surety of knowing that Tay didn't care enough about the taller boy to be pissed at him. ''Hope he's okay, this Ryan guy.'' Despite the sincerity of the statement, Seth felt himself getting truly, blindingly, angry for the second time in his life. 

''This Ryan guy?'' Summer was dragging him away, trying to keep up with their rapidly moving friend as he glared over his shoulder at the threat to his brother's happiness. ''This **Ryan** guy? Did you hear that….that…..'' 

''I heard.'' His girl sounded so crushed it pulled him out of his anger instantly. He put his arm around her, squeezing gently, and fell uncharacteristically silent. The only things he could think of to talk about, in his fretful state; were Ryan's condition, his chances of coming out of this **not** needing a bicycle helmet, and the situation that had put him into the hospital. 

He got the feeling that those particular topics wouldn't have a very receptive audience, just now. 

--xxx—

Taylor was doing fine. She was, she just needed to see _**him**_, that was all. And since they wouldn't let a weeping, hysterical girl into the ICU, she had to be calm. She **had** to. Because if she lost it, if she listened to the fearful murmurings of her imagination, then she might as well check into the psych ward for a nice little lie down. It was the ICU she needed to find, though. If only the stupid hospital signs weren't all blurry and her two friends would stop telling her to 'calm down'. She **was** calm, darn it. 

She stamped her foot at the sight of the very familiar nurse's station, the same one they'd passed three times already. She was going to have a word with the people who laid out the plans for this place, it was far too easy to get lost. 

''Tay….'' Summer sounded out of breath. She frowned at her friend, concerned that the other girl was that out of shape. She hadn't been moving **that** fast, after all. ''Tay…… I tried to tell you……they don't let anyone in ICU but family.'' 

''We'll see about that.'' She snapped, glaring around at the nurses with a firm expression. No one was going to keep her from seeing Ryan, especially not stupid hospital policies obviously designed for people who had no understanding of how traumatic actual family could be and how much more comforting non-family bonds were. 

''Why don't we find my parents?'' Seth suggested, panting as well. What was it with these two? She'd have to mention the benefits of physical exercise to them. Later. She looked around, hoping to see a sign pointing the way that maybe she'd missed the last three times and sighed dejectedly at the lack of neon blinking 'this way' helpfully. 

''All right.'' Her friends looked more relieved than she thought the situation warranted. It wasn't like she'd been charging around aimlessly; she had a very definite goal, it wasn't her fault they'd hidden it so well. 

''I was just about to call.'' Kirsten scolded them, coming forward to embrace her son with obvious relief. Doctor Roberts was there, talking in soft tones with Sandy and Caleb. She was about to focus in on the trio of men to find out what they were talking about, when she was enfolded in an embrace of her own. ''Taylor, how are you?'' 

''How's Ryan?'' Something of her frantic concern must've come through, because the other adults came over, encouraging the teens to sit. 

Doctor Roberts started talking, telling them that there hadn't been any brain damage, that it was the blood loss that was most 'troubling', that they were just waiting for him to wake up. He eased Kirsten's fears about a concussion with some explanation Taylor really didn't follow. Seth's repeated concern over how 'mental' his brother would be ground to a shuddering halt when his father put his arm around him, as did his mother. She'd known the boys were close, but she hadn't expected Seth to curl into their comfort so readily; childlike in his concern for his brother. Caleb's hand on her shoulder was soothing, she appreciated his support, hoping no one would think her heartless because she didn't break down like her friend, Summer: jumping up at the end of her father's speech to throw her arms around him and burst into tears. 

Kirsten thanked the man for his efforts, because apparently the other doctors' hadn't done a very good job at translating medical jargon into anything a normal person could understand. They all shook the man's hand in parting and she felt the urge, but lacked the ability, to smile at the stunned expression on his face when his daughter kissed her boyfriend farewell, right there in front of him. Thankfully, the two kept it short and sweet, or his reaction might have been a bit more extreme than 'I see I've missed some things'. Unsure of what to do, she sat with the Cohen's as they waited for word that visitors would be admitted. Even Seth was silent for their vigil, but she couldn't take the not knowing, the heavy weight of uncertainty. A flash of color outside the lounge inspired her to a course of action. Now all she needed to do was find an excuse to leave the room. Sandy came to her rescue, just as he had for Cotillion, picking up an empty coffee cup with a wistful expression. 

'' I'll get that.'' Taylor snatched the cup from him, gathering the others. ''Coffee for everyone?'' There were startled nods, only Caleb looked suspicious of her sudden, energetic activity. ''Be right back.'' She made her escape before anyone could think to question her, to offer more unnecessary comfort. She was fine.

She strode along confidently, knowing that no one would stop her as long as she acted like she belonged. Following a nurse unobtrusively, she slipped unseen into a storage closet. She changed rapidly into the candy striper's outfit, tucking her clothes and purse behind some scrubs. She exited carefully, falling into step with a group of med students that were apparently being educated on coma patients. That sounded like an ICU thing, and her theory was born out when the signs boldly declared that fact. Now, if she could just…….

''Here, let me help you.'' She held the unfortunately pass-card locked door open for the food service person trying to maneuver this huge cart out of the area. It made a nice shield from the nurse's station as she made her way into the place they'd secreted her boyfriend. 

Later, she'd wonder at how she walked right **to** his room; maybe someone had mentioned it in her hearing? Or she'd read it off some nurse's lips? Right now, she made sure the door was firmly closed as she eased towards the bed. 

Her heart finally stopped hammering in her chest, she could feel calm, **true** calm easing over her. He didn't look too bad, no bandages wrapped around his head, no tubes up his nose or down his throat. Ryan had a couple bruises on one cheek, but appeared to be otherwise fine. He looked like he was sleeping, really. Only the IV attached to one arm, dripping in blood and other fluids, challenged the peace of the scene. She stepped up to the side of the bed, brushing hair gently off his face, taking his hand in hers. The warmth of his fingers as she tangled them between her own was comforting in a way that his family hadn't been. He felt so solid, so **alive**; the twitching little half-smile to his mouth as he stirred in his sleep chased the last of her fears away. He was going to be fine. Knowing that, finally believing it, she leaned forward to touch her lips softly to his. 

''Taylor.'' He murmured it against her mouth and she pulled back, hoping she hadn't disturbed his recovery, staring in wonder at the slightly confused blue gaze. His hand tightened briefly on hers and he smiled, holding her in place with his pleasure at her presence. ''What are you doing here?'' He whispered, obviously not realizing just **where** he was, but still happy to have her there. 

''Well…..'' She returned his smile, ignoring the sounds of approaching people to indulge herself in brushing more hair away from his beautiful eyes. ''I thought, since we've done Cinderella, we might want to try Sleeping Beauty.'' 

--xxx—

The End - of this episode – see you next story 


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